


I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

by orphan_account



Series: Letters to Jake Peralta. [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Peraltiago - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy misses Jake and have one thing by her side: her talent with the English language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

Jacob David Peralta,

It has been 17 weeks since I last kissed you. One week for each one of your name’s letters. And I miss you. I miss waking up with your cold toes touching my right leg. I miss placing my head by your shoulder and inhale whatever scent there was on your wild, messy curls. I miss being the big spoon, and I miss putting my head on your heart whenever I felt like the world was too big to be carried by my shoulders, and then remember that I have you. I’m not alone in this world. I don’t need to deal with things by myself anymore.

Last week was the first time I had an anxiety crises without you in God knows how long. I know you told Charles to keep a look at me (you really thought I wouldn’t notice?), but it wouldn’t be the same thing if he helped me. He wouldn’t reward me with little kisses when I calmed down, would he? I woke up and somehow managed to go through it alone. Then I went to the kitchen to get me a cup of tea, and when I looked to the counter, there was that horrendous picture you made me take with you. That one we are both in gangsters coats directly from the evidence lockup, you looking at me and I disapproving you. Then I looked to the note you wrote on the picture “Amy with the Santiago Look™ and I, looking to the Sun of my Earth”.  And of course it isn’t the same thing as feeling your chest coming up and down, but it made me sure we are together, even when there’s more than 70 miles between us. There is nothing in the world that compares to you and me, and the thing that shocks me the most is we are both so comfortable with that.

Last night I slept on the couch, and please don’t be mad. I know you hate when you wake up without me by your side and you almost shove me down from the couch so I come to be with you, I know how you get so upset about my neck pain the other day, but it was the only thing that felt right. Your scent is almost going away of the bed, but the couch still screams you. And I needed to be by your side, because it’s unbearable to think that I still don’t know when I’m going to be able to smell you, taste you, be with you again.

Remember when you said that the Christmas gift you gave me would take centuries to end? You were right. It’s been 17 centuries since the day you left. And I’m almost finishing it. I know we agreed that I would only put things on the scrapbooks when I was too emotional about something involving you, so since that sad day, it turned out to be a daily thing. There are a few times I’m writing about a sweet memory, and the only thing I wish I could do is make my  way to you on the couch, curl up by your side and talk so much about it that I’ll convince you to read it. And then you would kiss my temple when you realized how crazy I am about you, and my heart would do that weird flip thing you keep saying it’s the “incurable love disease”. Thank you so much, again. I know I kept saying how much I appreciated that you gave me three scrapbooks and so many supplies, but I really do. I love that you gave me three because “Jeez Amy, it’s one for each one of our first kisses! The first time Johnny kissed Dora, the first time Dora kissed Johnny and the first time Amy and Jake kissed each other. Keep on track, woman!”. And I love that I have so many things that I love about you that three scrapbooks aren’t nearly enough to put them in paper.

Brooklyn is a crappy place without you. I don’t know how this county survived before you were born. I don’t know how I managed to call New York home when I didn’t knew your arms were in this city. I really miss you. And so does your mom. You should know that we are bonding. She keeps showing me things you never would let her show, and she is actually teaching me how to cook. But of course there’s this tiny moment any time I visit her that we keep staring at each other, knowing how much the other screams Jake: You’re the love of our lives, and is impossible to look at us and not see a little bit of you. It just don’t get too much to handle because we are sure that wherever you are, we are still the loves of your life too.

I missed you each one of these 119 days. And you can be sure I’ll miss you each one of the days that we’ll have to stay without each other. I love you, so much. So much it doesn’t even hurts, it just keeps filling all of my body and soul. Thanks for being the Alex to my Rosie, the Allie to my Noah, the Juliet to my women-from-Italy-whom-write-to-Juliet, and every other person on movies and books that makes someone fall so hard in love that they keep writing letters. I’ll write for you until my days are done. Hopefully in a few weeks you’ll be by my side to read right after I finish writing them.

 _With all my love_ ,

Amy Santiago.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I used Andy's middle name as Jake's. No, I do not regret.


End file.
